


Intolerance

by Trash



Category: AFI
Genre: Advey - Freeform, Angst, M/M, PWP, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:27:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1228108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davey knows he is playing with fire, but he can't help himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intolerance

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Ella for being my beta and generally an awesome fangirl.

Adam is sitting at the front of the bus when Davey walks in wearing just his tight y-fronts with a smiley face emblazoned across the ass. This is a regular enough occurrence that Adam doesn't even react when Davey opens the fridge and bends over, wagging his smiling ass in the air like a happy fucking dog.

He turns around, bottle of water in hand, and smiles slowly. "Oops, didn't see you there."

Adam rolls his eyes. "We need to drag the others out of bed. According to your chart we'll be at the hotel soon."

Davey looks out the window at the acres of open fields rolling by either side of the bus and raises an eyebrow. "I think we're in the middle of buttfuck nowhere."

"It's your chart."

"Fuck the chart." Davey takes a seat on the couch next to Adam and stretches his legs out across his lap.

"I'll remember that, the next time something isn't going as planned."

"Hey. Only the maker of the chart can disrespect the chart." Davey swigs his water, missing his mouth, and Adam follows the beads of water as they roll down his bare chest. "Fuck," he murmurs, wiping at it with the back of his hand. He looks up and catches Adam's eye, flashes a sultry smile.

Adam stares, blankly, pushes Davey's feet out of his lap. He gets up and disappears to the back of the bus without saying another word.

***

They both draw the short straws and are paired up for press later in the morning. Adam is smoking outside the hotel waiting for the car to pick them up when Davey appears, sunglasses already pulled down over his eyes despite the overcast weather.

Adam nips the end off his cigarette and puts it back in the carton, waving a hand in front of his face. "Sorry, man. I thought you'd be fashionably late."

Davey smirks. "Don't worry about it, just brush your teeth before we make out later."

A girl walking past throws a glance their way and Adam visibly cringes. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"What? Talk about making out with you? Why, are you turned on?" Davey steps forward and cups Adam through his jeans.

Adam jerks away, stare threatening and cold. "Don't," he says. "Why do you always have to cross the line?"

Davey knows he should feel berated, but instead he feels challenged. He steps back, narrows his eyes behind his shades. "Because you want me to."

"I've never, ever said I wanted you to," Adam points out, incredulously.

"You've also never said you didn't want me to."

The car pulls up and Adam clenches and unclenches his fists, climbing in the back beside Davey. They've been driving for five minutes before he finally finds the words to speak. "So. I haven't told you not to, so that means I want to? That's...that's rapist mentality, Dave."

Davey scoffs. "Fine, whatever. Keep telling yourself you don't want it." He rests his elbow on the arm rest and props his chin up on his hand, staring out of the window.

***

The press is hell. They visit a radio station first where Davey undermines Adam's answers at every turn until he sits back and lets Davey do all the talking. After that they are interviewed for a magazine and Davey constantly drops hints about Adam's sexual preferences, much to Adam's displeasure.

"It must be hard, being on tour for so long and leaving loved ones behind," the reporter says into her dictaphone, holding it out for an answer.

"It's not so bad. We all have Skype, you know? And Adam is always on this app...I think it's called Grindr?"

Adam doesn't rise to it, just laughs politely. The reporter smiles, acts like she understands what is going on. "How do you manage to get along so well? A lot of other bands have fallen apart in half the time AFI has been going."

"Booty calls," Davey says, laughs easily. "I always know I can turn to any of the guys if I need them. Especially Adam. You know. Late at night."

Davey knows he is playing with fire, and continues to do so all day. It isn't until they're in the dressing room and Davey performs a strip-tease that Adam snaps. "Enough, Davey," he says sternly. He doesn't shout, but the room falls silent anyway.

"Adam," Hunter says.

"No. All day. All fucking day. What do you want from me? You think it's everybody's job to bend over backwards, kiss your ass and make you happy. You're like a spoiled child."

Davey laughs. "Jesus, learn to take a joke." He looks around at Jade, Hunter and Smith for affirmation. Jade holds up his hands as if to say, 'you're both on your own with this one'.

Adam doesn't take his eyes off Davey but says nothing. He grabs a bottle of water from the rider and leaves the room, calmly. When the door closes behind him Davey sighs, body visibly sagging.

"I don't know which one of you is worse," Hunter mumbles as he changes his t-shirt.

"I was just fooling around. He started the shit."

"You push his buttons, Dave. You know you do. And the one time he snaps you can't take it. And neither can I. You guys give me a bitching headache. Just, leave him alone."

"Yes, mom."

***

Davey does as he is told, leaving Adam well alone. A couple of times after the show he finds an apology on the tip of his tongue but, every time he approaches him Jade shoots him a warning look and Davey really does know better, despite everything. Back at the hotel he peels off his clothes and opens the curtains wide, standing in the dark and staring out at the busy city. This is his favourite part of the day - when the ringing in his ears from the show still hasn't faded and every nerve is still tingling.

The knock at the door could have been a canon blast, it's that loud. Davey goes to the peep hole and sighs, opening the door. He doesn't make any effort to cover up. "Yeah?"

Adam keeps his eyes fixed on Davey's face despite his nakedness and steps forward, backing Davey up into the room. He closes the door behind him without turning around and clenches his jaw.

"Adam?"

Adam doesn't say anything, just crosses his arms over his stomach and grabs his t-shirt by the hem, pulling it over his head and dumping it on the floor. He steps forward and grabs Davey by the biceps, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. His nails bite half-moon cuts into Davey's skin and the kiss is a mess of lips tongue teeth but neither of them give a shit.

Davey lets Adam push him toward the bed and he lies there, staring up with his mouth slightly open. Adam undoes his pants, pushing them down and stepping out of them. They've all seen each other naked at one point or another, but this is different. Adam stands at the foot of the bed, towering over Davey who lies prone. He feels trapped, even though he isn't, and he is surprised at just how hard he has gotten with such little touching. He aches for this.

Adam climbs onto the bed, straddling Davey's hips and dropping his head to kiss him. Davey submits completely, all the fight gone out of him. Adam doesn't touch him except where his knees press against the sides of Davey's thighs and, when he gets up, he doesn't say anything.

"There's condoms in my bag," Davey offers, watches the shadow of Adam cross the room to dig through his luggage. He returns to the bed with a condom and a tube. Suddenly Davey regrets getting Piña Colada lube. Regrets everything. Just for a moment.

"Roll over," Adam says, kneeling on the bed.

Davey hesitates, lost in the sight of Adam opening the foil packet with his teeth and rolling it onto his erection.

"Roll. Over," Adam says again. And this time Davey does as he is told. He hates being face down, makes him feel like an animal, but he will take what he can get.

There is the sound of the cap on the lube popping, followed by the sickly smell of piña colada and then Adam is spreading his legs, pushing against him with no preparation. He clenches his jaw, closes his eyes in pain.

"Relax," Adam whispers with his lips pressed to Davey's ear.

"Fuck, Adam. I can't." Davey wills himself to relax, concentrates on letting himself feel good. Adam pushes in relentlessly until he is pressed against Davey's back. He bites down hard on Davey's shoulder, laughs at the yelp of pain he gets in response.

Adam doesn't give him time to adjust, pulls out immediately before easing himself back in at a pace that does nothing for either of them, but Davey gets the feeling this isn't so much about having a good time as it is teaching him a lesson. He backs his hips up, pressing back to meet Adam, who digs his nails into of Davey's hips so hard they break the skin.

With each thrust Davey mewls as he is stretched. It hurts but he loves it, and Adam's hand around his throat cuts off his airway just enough for him to go light headed. "Yes, god, yes," he groans, lifting himself up onto one hand and wrapping the other around his dick. He pushes forward into his fist and rocks back onto Adam.

Adam pulls out, ruts against Davey's ass. He releases Davey's throat just to drag his nails down his back. Pulling away, he grips Davey's hip and pulls. "Roll over," he says.

Davey does as he is told and lies on his back, passive. He looks up at Adam and chews his lip ring absently. He wants to say something but no words are forthcoming. All he can think is, fuck, it'll be a miracle if I can walk tomorrow.

"You sure this is still what you want?"

"Definitely. Desperately. Please, Adam, I need you." He goes to sit up but is met by Adam's hand, a clenched fist smashing into his face. He falls back, boneless, and waits until his vision clears before he tries to move again. But before he can do anything Adam is there, on him, pushing his legs up and shoving in without another word.

Adam fucks him relentlessly, deliberately missing his prostate and not touching his dick. "God," he moans, teeth grazing Davey's ear, "I am so close.'

Davey isn't. He doesn't want this to be over yet. Adam pulls out, pulling off the condom and discarding it carelessly. He shifts, knees either side of Davey's stomach as he jerks himself off, thrusting into his fist as he gets closer and closer. He moans, eyes closed and head back. "Fuck, yes. Open your mouth."

Davey does, eyes fixed on Adam as he comes, hot and fast on his face. He licks his lips, wipes come from his cheek and sucks it from his fingers, eyes never leaving Adam's. He wants to freeze this moment - Adam's chest heaving as he comes down from his high, eyes heavy lidded and lustful.

But then it's over, and Adam is getting up off the bed and pulling on his pants, his shirt. Davey sits up, jaw slack in disbelief.

"Wait. Where are you going?"

"To bed. We have an early start tomorrow, Dave. Better get your beauty sleep." He fastens his jeans and slips his feet into this shoes, adjusting his shirt on his way to the door.

"Dude. Are you fucking serious?" Davey gestures to his hard-on.

Adam says nothing, flashes him a smile, and closes the door quietly behind him when he leaves.

***

Their bus call is at eight and Davey is the last one up the steps. Jade and Smith make eyes at one another and Hunter says "Fashionably late?"

Davey nods, says nothing, and continues his slow limp down the bus hoping that Adam is in the back room or already in his bunk or on the fucking moon.

"Jesus, Dave, what happened to your face?" Jade asks.

"What?"

"Yeah," Hunter says, getting up from the couch and reaching out to tug at the neck of Davey's shirt, "and your neck. Did you go ten rounds with Mike Tyson?"

"Or have a particularly rough bed partner?" Smith suggests, smirking at the others.

Adam appears then, like he was waiting in the wings for his cue. He smiles pleasantly, says, "Holy shit, Dave, what happened to you?"

Davey's blood runs cold, his heart beating what he is sure a rhythm associated only with those suffering a heart attack. He peels his tongue away from the roof of his mouth and manages to smile, tight and fake. "I have no idea," he manages honestly.

And Adam just smiles.


End file.
